Roommates
by Eyes like Dawn
Summary: The Dark One is not the only one who can manipulate others. When Belle is the one doing the manipulation, Rumpelstiltskin finds a perfect way to punish the beauty for her trickery.
1. The Plan

_A/N: No, stay away from me plot bunnies. No, get away…no…no….noooo. Ah well I tried to fight them off but they had lasers. I decided to (for now) write my other M story as complete and follow this one instead. I don't know when I am going to get around to the next chapter of this, probably after I am through my other story 'Curses and Cups'. I hope you enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Once Upon a Time. (Cause I tell you, if I did, the first scene we'd have in season 2 is Rum/Belle waking in bed!)**

**~8~8~ **

Today was the day, Belle promised herself in a quiet, solemn murmur as she finished chopping the carrots and potatoes for supper. The air was alive in aromatic aromas of meats and spices and herbs and vegetables and pastry dough all in some dazzling fragrance dancing upon the heated air.

Pots were bubbling and boiling with a hearty vigor and the haunch of mutton skewered upon a spit turned slowly as the gluttonous flames lapped tauntingly at its simmering sides. Grease hissed viciously when it dribbled into the spontaneously flaring blaze, but it only succeeded to add more mouthwatering scents to pierce the already scrumptious atmosphere with more delectable whiffs of the succulent meal to come.

Taking a quick moment of reprieve form her toils, Belle smiled tremulously at her handiwork and wiped her sweat sopped brow with the back of her sleeve. Pride welled in her to think she had chopped and diced and spitted and skinned all before her for their nights meal.

Such a grand feast wasn't without purpose however. No, today's labors came with a request at the end of the, hopefully, scrumptious meal. Tonight she would ask for a room of her own in favor of the dungeon she had dwelled in for the past few months.

The graceful beauty had it all planned out in her mind. After the meal was finished and her master full and in an easy mood she would address her living situation.

A smile played upon Belle's features as she sunk into her imagination, losing herself in day dream. Once the last bit of desert was eaten she would briskly trot up to him, in an easy merchant like fashion as her father had taught her and explain the situation.

She would stare him strait in his fathomlessly sable depths and dive into her request and reasoning bravely. The dungeon was cold, even in mid-summer when the grounds were sweltering, mice where constantly raiding her bed of straw for more stalks for their nests, it was an arduous trek to scale and descend the winding steps down to her garrulous abode day after day.

Before he could but in she would expertly give him good, solid explanation as to why allowing her a room would be much more efficient for his slave and thus himself. He wouldn't have to worry about her slipping off the slick, dank stone stairwell that was more treacherous than the dungeon itself, she would have a better sleep meaning she would perform her duties quicker and hopefully without accident, and last of all if he so deemed to allow her a small room of her own, he would not find her one day transformed into a block of ice from the freezing condition that was all too real in her dank prison.

A pleasant sigh escaped her lips as she padded over to check the progress of the mutton with rosemary. Such a wondrous scent nearly made her mouth water as she checked to see how pink the center was.

Such a simple meal, but it was Rum's favorite. Sometimes she found it odd; he enjoyed peasant fare and often upturned his nose at goose liver and fish eggs and heart of the unicorn. No, he preferred the simple and filling; fresh baked bread that was still warm, a hearty stew, venison or roast chicken. Nothing fancy often pleased her master and lamb simply happened to be his favorite indulgence to partake of now and again.

Having grown up in a wealthy tradesmen kingdom by the seas, the noble princess of a merchant king, she had long ago learned and mastered the arts of striking deals and forging alliances. One of her father's oldest tricks was to host a glorious feast for his most valuable fellow traders, buyers, and customers wealthy enough fritter away a good deal of gold.

Men, her dearest papa had often confided conspiratorially in a proud air when he was preening over a grand trade, were more easy to convince with bellies full of warm mead and roast boar, than they were on empty stomachs.

Tradesmen and buyers, ready to spend their riches, were like snapping wolves when they were just coming in off their Caravels and skiffs from the tumultuous seas and their carriages through the bandit filled forests; their grip tight over their purse strings. But once their hunger was sated with good food, dark wine, and a few ladies at their disposal to flirt with, the gold's flowed from looser hands, and less lucid minds.

Rumpelstiltskin was a man, or some type of man, the beauty surmised, so the same, at least she believed, had to work for him as well. 'Feed a man well and he will treat you well,' was a mantra many women of her old village had uttered, and while Belle was not of their timid, cowed stock, the words had truth nonetheless.

A belly swilled with cold, strong ale and mutton would have him in a favorable, humoring mood…she hoped.

Of course there was the off chance the master would be in a surly state once he arrived back at the castle. Cold, frigid shivers slithered up her spine at the thought of all her hard work being for naught.

Usually when those days of dour humor occurred they usually kept their distance.

Diner would be a little of whatever she had made for herself, or even just a few nibbles of bread, and then leaving a plate of food by the banked hearth for warmth for him to stomp in sometime in the night and devour.

In the morning all that would be left was an empty tankard, and a few crumbs on the wooden plate and it would be business as usual again with a sly, quipping Rum acting as though he was a completely different person from the sour persona of the night before.

To Belle, she sometimes saw him as a gale or a fierce typhoon. Once his dark clouds had passed in the night, the sun was bright and the day was cool and he was his old self and all was right in the realms.

Forcing herself not to dwell on things that could go wrong, disastrously wrong, the beauty busied her mind making the final preparations for desert and the mutton all the while pleading it would go perfectly.

~8~8~

Supper, surprisingly, was a rousing success. To be honest with herself, Belle had thought everything possibly imaginable would have gone wrong. When she'd laid the table her hand trembled in fear of dropping the mutton, every mug poured was a breath held and a frantic prayer her clumsiness would not take her thrall.

To say Rumpelstiltskin was surprised to see such a feast was an understatement. His onyx eyes widen faintly when she brought out the piping hot meal. Steam whisked the aroma of the sumptuous feast along the current; tempting her master with their savory delights.

At one point Belle though she espied a bit of drool pooling at the edge of his mouth in anticipation of his favorite fare spread before him, but it was vanished with a wipe of the back of his scaled claw. She had to stifle a giggle at the sight as she doled out the meal. Who knew traipsing across the realms and striking bargains was ravenous work?

All according to plan she reminded herself proudly. Her master was not the only one who could bend and manipulate other to his will.

Desert was the manifesto of the night outshining even the mutton and the frothing ale she managed to find in the stockroom still cold and of a good age. Having not previously been well versed in pastry making of any sort, she had plied her hands at something easy and simple – cherry tarts.

The fruit was at its peak in season and the tarts were not at all difficult to master. And, as luck would have it, she found that her captor did indeed possess a sweet tooth. Four easily devoured tarts was testament to that alone, not to mention the praise he off handedly offered her after taking a first tenuous bite and then cramming half inside his mouth all in one go.

"Marvelous, Dearie. Your skills are rapidly improving." He commended her after the meal was done.

Nothing but dark crust of the morning's bread and scraps of mutton too small to devour lay on his plate. He had helped himself to two portions of everything, something the russet haired beauty found infinitely pleasing.

She flushed a deep scarlet at his lauding. "Thank you." Belle replied timidly. A surge of satisfaction bolstered over her, making her grin proudly behind the rim of her cup.

"So, let's hear it, what do you want?" He trilled knowingly, his onyx orbs glittering as though he had suspected her plan all along. Folding his hands behind his head he leaned back in the chair, eyeing her curiously.

Nothing short of him relating her plan in specific detail could have rocked the beauty more. He had known her plot, her womanly trickery to help favor his good will in an entreaty. All the winds of hope and promise died in her sails; she felt as though toiling all day had been a waste.

She stammered lamely, her face falling and blanching into a pale parlor. "How did you know…?"

He shrugged as though it were to have been obvious. "You layered it on far too thick, Dearie. Since when do you ever cook desert or attempt mutton all in one night?" At that, he dabbed a dark crust of bread left over on his plate a bit of the pooled juices from the meal and popping into his smiling mouth. "A bit more subtly would have been in order." The Dark One chided, but not angrily; his good humor was still there.

"Oh…" Her head turned downcast dejectedly. Subtly had never been one of her strong suits ever. She was open and outgoing and full of bright thoughts and ideas ready to be loosed upon the realms, not sulking about for weaknesses or tricks.

A bit of compassion stirred in his black heart for her. Though she had tried to trick him into a favorable mood, he had to give her a nod to her daring and her effort. "Well." The magical fiend coughed awkwardly into a fist as he shifted. "Come on out with it, Dearie, what is it you desire?"

Ruby dappled her porcelain cheeks again as she shrugged embarrassedly and knocked a dark amber ringlet of hair from her face. "Um…nothing, it doesn't matter."

Without a word, she rose to begin collecting the dishes for washing. A gloom of disappointment veiled her face she tried to mask stalwartly behind a façade of neutral features, but not good enough to convince her perceptive master.

Rum's listless ebony eyes followed her every move as she gathered the remnants of their meal. Dark lines of a frown garlanded his gray-gold scaly face instead of the superior mirth he had possessed when popping her bubble of expectation.

"Oh come now, Belle, you've done all this work. At the very least tell me what you were to ask for." He remarked suddenly, feeling a seed of guilt plant within him, though he wasn't sure why. She should have been the one feeling guilty for trying to manipulate his mood.

The forlorn beauty tossed her head somberly, offering a mirthless little chuckle of bashfulness. "It was stupid; a fool thing. I should have never even attempted it."

Belle never asked for foolish, haughty things, Rum knew explicitly. Even at her father's manor she had never been the kind to faun over baubles and trinkets. Not once had she beseeched him for pretty treasure or even the most basic of comforts.

No, Belle would not ask for anything outlandish or unreasonable of that he was certain.

"No it was not, and you know it." He countered and leapt to his feet at once. Padding over to her, he picked up the rest of the dishes, dutifully following her into the kitchen. "Tell me what it is you so crave enough to put on this grand supper simply for an opportunity to come to me with a bequest."

"You would laugh in my face." Replied Belle softly, her head tilted down as though ashamed.

The Dark One heaped the dishes by the tub of hot water, feeling some injustice he had done to her grow and blossom. Did she think him so heartless to scoff and leer at her for one humble request? "I swear to you, I won't laugh, now tell me."

Belle shrugged timidly as she began to wash the filthy plates. "I…I couldn't possibly. Let's just forget about this whole silly thing."

"No. Come away from those dishes and tell me." He commanded fervently. Although the magical beast didn't know why, he was beginning to feel as though he made some deal with her and wasn't keeping his end of the bargain. That, in any form, could not be allowed.

She stared melancholically at the pearly suds that skimmed the top of the sloshing, hot waters that wisped up faint lines of steam to clash with the cold air. "Please, Rum, I have work to do. "

"Forget about the dishes, I'll do the dishes!" The Dark One all but roared as he grabbed her by her wet wrist and turned her in his direction. His onyx orbs were pleading desperately. "I order you to tell me. What is it you want, gold, silks, diamonds, ermine, or rubies?"

Biting her bottom lip in a way that made the magical monster yearn to take her in his arms and rip her dress off with one tug and shove himself deep inside her, Belle refused to meet his asking gaze. "No, none of that. I…well…I was wondering if I might…since you have to many spare rooms to count if I might…stay in one instead of the dungeon."

For a moment he stared at her numbly, not comprehending her words. That was all; she wanted a measly little room to sleep in instead of a dungeon floor! It was not a huge thing to ask for. So much trouble for one little request seemed preposterous.

A chuckle rumbled in his throat, coming out in his high pitched timbre. "Pick out anyone you desire. You can move in tonight, if that would suit your fancy." He revealed generously, a smile tipping the edges of his thin gray lips.

Belle took a step backward, looking stunned at his kindness after it seemed all had gone wrong after supper. "Thank you." She stuttered in confused surprise.

His reply was a nudge of the head to the door, in a silent order for her to start selecting which chamber she'd so favor. It wasn't much, but it would make her happy for all her hard work then he was please to allow her a most comfortable abode.

Offering him a quick curtsey, the beauty dashed out of the well-stocked kitchen and down toward the dungeons to collect what few possessions she called her own.

A small giggle tumbled happily from his lips as he stared at the door way, listening to her steps pound down the stone corridors. He shook his head amusingly. All that trouble for some silly supplication for a room. How had she ever thought that her cunning would outshine his after so flagrantly…having…an…over-the-top…?

Oh.

At that moment the Dark One could have curse himself roundly. "That clever fox." He murmured beneath his breath as he looked around with the steaming water and the filthy dishes. She had even gotten him to clean the dishes afterwards, the cunning female!

Down below, in the cold, dark dank of the dungeon, Belle hummed happily to herself as she gathered her few things. Even with a small prison, all of what she owned did not half fill a tiny corner.

An extra dress, a comb, and a cloak where the only things she had to take with her up to her new room, but none of that mattered. Twirling about the small domicile, her laughter echoed pleasantly in the morose filth.

True, she hadn't wanted to trick Rum, but she knew there was a possibility he'd had drawn a conclusion, and she was as equally prepared for than happenstance as she was her first plan.

But none of that mattered, soon she would have a room all her own, with a bed and chest and perchance even an adjoined washroom so she wouldn't have to scuffle out into the cold halls every morning to wash up.

Once getting her laughter under control, the beauty gathered her scant items and heaved open the door to her cell, only to be met with a glowering Rumpelstiltskin blockading the way with his wiry form.

"You tricked me." He accused darkly, his tone low and dangerous; pointing a dexterous talon at her. "You knew I was going to catch on to your little diner scheme to soften me up. No matter what you did you knew I was going to find out, so you intentionally made it grandiose knowing I couldn't resist calling you on it and then…" The Dark One paused trying to configure the proper word as he flourished his fingers through the air. "Then you worked your womanly wiles on me making me feel guilty for un-hatching your plot!"

As much as he hated to admit it, he had fallen fully, unwitting into her trap and laid there like a dumb animal letting her jerk him around. She was a black widow and her fangs had pierced him!

Belle inclined her head. "Yes." She admitted gently. At some point she knew he was going to draw the lines together, but she had hoped it would have been when she had settled into her new accommodation.

She knew him as well as he knew her. If she had already been situated into a room his pride would have been far too wounded in bringing the deception to light. There would have been some grumbling, probably snapping at her for some unrelated thing, and that would have been that.

Now he had caught her without her even stepping one foot out of her cell. Perhaps she was destined to spend all eternity in the cell, barley big enough not to be called a kennel.

Her heart thudded faster on what was to come. Would he be angry at her double trickery, or perhaps saw fit to make her lot worse than was already the case. But then again, what could be worse than her cramped, cold cell?

It seemed forever that he glared at her, his dark orbs sparkling with the thoughts of what to do with her. There needed a lesson to be taught here, a lesson she would not soon forget for her deceits.

"You will be staying in a room, Dearie." He said finally in a dry tone that echoed decision and resolution.

Her eyes alit with hope that maybe he was impressed with her cunning. "You…you mean I may sleep in a room upstairs?"

"Oh yes, Dearie." Rum replied, though there was a mischievous and wicked glimmer in his midnight depths. "From now on you will be sleeping in _my_ room."


	2. His Bed

"You can't possibly be serious." Belle stammered as she stood in the one room she had never been privy before to enter or even allowed to take one foot into – her master's bed chamber.

The room was of a modest size, not the most luxurious or exquisite in the Dark Castle, but still very comfortable and actually, surprisingly, homey. He had rooms in his massive citadel gilt with gold and fine silver and latches forged of jasper and chandeliers made of smooth chalcedony, but his room was on the verge of some nobleman's chamber from a small fiefdom in some back woods realm, not a master of an ominous leaden gray castle. No, his room felt…simple and basic, with only minor comforts regular peasants would spoil themselves on if they had the silvers to fritter away on such luxuriance.

There where two large glass doors covered in sheer azure drapes, which led to a gray stone balcony that was flanked by two snarling, moss streaked gargoyles on either side hunched over and looking straight into the snowy mountains jagged misty distance as though protecting the man who dwelt in the room from all that would dare cause him harm or ill will.

An ash wood refurbished armoire bedecked in horrid carvings of devious ghouls and goblins cavorting in their heathen sacrifices of blood and sinew sat tucked into a corner next to a door she presumed led to a wash-room. A small table with a silver crafted pitcher and a few matching cups was nestled beside the doors that led to the balcony.

There was no mirror as she was coming to realize none of the rooms possessed save the main hall with the floor length mirror shrouded in a bronze quilt her master had ordered her under no circumstance to pluck off. Yet his room did possess a bowl of clear water that reflected an image when the ripples were still and the liquid calm. Perhaps that's how he checked his facial appearance every morning, she pondered, but did not rest on the thought.

Intricate patterns woven with gold thread in burgundy fabric lay as soft rugs under her feet, speaking for themselves of their elaborate workings and design from the artistic soul who knit them together so fastidiously. And lastly, the only thing in the room besides her master that filled her with a pool of cold unadulterated dread – his bed.

It was a large mattress, which could comfortably fit two without hassle, stuffed with swans down, the softest feathers in all the known realms. The head board looked as though it had been heisted from the room of a grand king. It was craved of a dark, dark wood that almost made it look akin to black stone, but the grain of the foreign wood dispelled that notion entirely. Furs of skinned silver wolves and black bears lay neatly at the foot of the long bed for especially cold nights when even the magic wasn't enough to keep the frigid, howling winds at bay when they rambled down the darkened halls. The blankets had pinwheel designs in a menagerie of warm winter colors and hues that would have dazzled her if she knew she wasn't going to be sleeping there…with him.

Even as the thought crept upon her, Belle had to stifle a shiver crawling down her spine and the prickle of Goosebumps arising on her porcelain flesh. She was to sleep in the same bed with him and share his room from this point forward! That alone would make many women burst into a flood of tears and unabashed weeping.

A high pitched giggle rumbled from his throat as he nimbly skipped past her to stand in the middle of the room. His fingers tented together lightly, a cunning smirk smeared thick with mischievousness twitching upon his grayish-gold features as he answered her stunned inquiry. "Oh indeed Dearie, I am serious. Now you may put your things anywhere you desire and make yourself right at home."

Belle inhaled a deep breath, forcing her quivering nerves and her roiling belly to steady and to swallow the scorching bile of her pride to correct the situation. This had gone too far already with him actually allowing her entry to his private quarters. It had to end, before something disastrous became of it. "I am sorry for trying to trick you. I only wanted to have a decent place to lay my head. Please, you win. I have learned my lesson and I admit it humbly, now can I just go back to my cell."

Even a heap of old, dirty straw seemed preferable to being bed mates with the Dark One. She wouldn't even speak a peep if he dare take that pittance of comfort away as long as he allowed her to go back and be in her own dungeon again without the thought of him crawling into bed with her or vice versa.

"No, no, my dear you don't understand." He sniggered impishly and waggled his scaled talons at his dutiful slave. "I never go back on my word. I said you may have a room, and a room you shall have; this room…our room. You will not be going back to the dungeon."

Yes, this was a sufficient punishment for her trying to manipulate him, and also a way to show he did not go back on what he said. Eventually, perhaps, he might allow her a room, but for now she needed to learn never to try to trick him.

Other had attempted trickery to fool him over the centuries, and they had gotten much worse. This punishment was a mercy compared to the torments he had cast upon others to leave them to wallow in misery for all and eternity, with nary a thought about them again. She should have felt relieved and lucky beyond reason he had chosen not to make her sleep on the kitchen floor for her little stunt!

The maple haired beauty attempted to protest his words, her mouth stuttering and stammering lamely for some rebuttal. "But…but…this isn't-"

"Tut-tut, Dearie I don't want to hear another word about it tonight." Rum scolded, mildly in amusement, but at the same time commanding her to be silent.

Another slight upturn of his lips wove impishly upon his gray-gold scaled features as she obeyed dutifully, but not without an angry and frightened glared. She might have no choice but to obey her master, yet that didn't mean she had to like it. Not that he cared what she liked, of course.

"Now." He continued undeterred, by her the blue flames glowering in her cobalt depths. "Seeing as though you do not have something proper to wear to bed, I have garnered a night shift for you if you'd prefer to wear it. Also, I think it only fair that I warn you, I don't wear much when I am sleeping."

For a moment she almost snapped out a word, but staunchly bit her retort back as she clamped her teeth down forcefully until she could feel blood ooze from her tongue. At his last bit, her face had fallen into a deathly ashen pall with the thoughts of him half-naked sprawled out in the bed with her. How long was he going to make her face this awkward humiliation, was the only question that blared through her mind.

His smirk escalated into a full blown grin curling upward upon his gray lips as he tramped towards the door that led back out into the drafty corridors and halls. "I won't retire until late, so hopefully that will give you an opportunity to get comfortable in your new accommodations." Turning to her he offered a mocking deep bow. "Please make yourself at home." On an off note he added nonchalantly. "Oh yes, and I forgot to mention I like to spoon."

Infuriated now beyond all reason, Belle angrily tossed her spare dress at the manically chuckling fiend who reveled wickedly in her irritation mingled thickly with fear. For a moment she didn't care of the consequences throwing anything at him. If she had been near enough, she would have thrown the silver jug on the table at his head as well hoping to wipe that rather infectious smile off his scaled face.

Unfortunately, the dress did not succeed in hitting him, but only the edge of the door he shut softly on his way out. The sky blue fabric pooled at the threshold, filling Belle with a dread of what possibly could be if he made her stay in his chambers for a long amount of time.

The Dark One was a man, obviously, and as all men he had needs, and cravings, and desires. She had even washed a few of his sheets that had unidentifiable splotches on them that related to her he still possessed those male hungering's for womanly companionship. In any regard, part of him was still human at least; the side that demanded to be sated of roiling desire.

When she had first seen some of the stains in the laundress room, a part of her had been mildly aroused and surprised that he continued to have urges of lust. And now those memories of perhaps catching him in the act one day were coming back to her. The thoughts utterly filled her stomach with fiery butterflies that withered her common sense to char and let her fantasies roam wild; thoughts she knew well she shouldn't have been having about her master at all.

As his footsteps echoed fainter and fainter down the hall and more than likely to his spinner's wheel, the tired beauty sat numbly upon the edge of the soft bed as though dazed. Holding her head in her hand, locks of her dark amber hair curtained her face as she wondered just exactly how she was going to get through this.

~8~8~

In the end, she opted to shun the night shift and keep her day dress on whilst she fell into her nightly repose. Once she had located the night raiment, part of her had expected it to be some lewd, web thin, sheer gown that would show everything beneath it silken fibers. But no, the garment was a solid, non-see through white cotton that tumbled all the way down to her calves. It was unadorned save for a few cords to lace or unlace the front on sweltering summer nights.

Still even with such a modest garb, she didn't feel comfortable sleeping in the same bed with Rumpelstiltskin with so little to cover herself. She felt as though a thousand dresses and tunics and gowns would never be enough to cover her. Already as she climbed in the soft bed wearing her one dress, laced and all, she felt particularly exposed like a warrior upon the field of battle with no armor.

However, as she snuggled down anxiously under the thick blankets with a comfortable pillow to lay her head upon for the first time in months, she had to admit, the bed was soft and far more pleasant than her bale of filthy straw. The covers were warm and not itchy, as some could be, and smelled of the faint lilac lye she washed the clothes and sheets and other washables in.

Wariness strained every nerve and fiber of her being, and yet after such a tiresome day of toiling in the kitchen and laboring resolutely away for a wondrous meal, the sleepy beauty felt herself drift off into the realm of slumber, with visions of a half-naked Rum sliding in next to her. Although she tried to tenaciously fight the images of him lying right beside her, lustfully fondling his manhood, her weary brain gave over to the meanderings of the nights.

The moon was only a thin smile in the velvet expanse of night when Belle felt herself stir awake. It was still late, not nearly time to get up and begin the day of putting the rising bread in the oven or beginning to dust, and yet once she remembered where she was and how she had gotten there her body snapped fully into alertness as though she had been up for ages.

Boots dully thudded outside the door to the room, followed by a creak of rusted hinges swinging agape as the thick oaken door slid quietly open to allow Rumpelstiltskin wiry figure to slip inside the chamber. The moon beams obliquely shimmering through the lithely shifting sheer azure curtains and the glass was more than enough to shine light upon the entire room, sufficient enough to see every move and twist he made.

Belle watched intently, with barely peeked open eyes as her master prepared himself for bed. He unlaced his boots and kicked them off tiredly in any direction, pried off his russet wool tunic and tossed it carelessly at a nearby chair, but it landed on the floor instead, and finally he peeled his dark tight leather pants off, revealing his nearly naked body to the moon light.

His under garments were loose linen that was too dark for the beauty to actually concede if they were blue or black in hue. They didn't display much but a faint bulge of his manhood, which made the woman's mouth involuntarily dry like a dessert and fire to pool in her belly.

"Hmm, should I leave these on or simply go without, my dear Belle?" The Dark One trilled and winked roguishly in her direction. Of course he knew she had been watching, for he had made just enough noise to rankle her from sleep simply for that purpose.

He wanted to hear her paltry breath try to stifle a gasp, and to watch her barely opened eyes to round as they followed his wandering hands.

A part of him wondered where it might have gone if he had been brave enough to pursue his undressing any further. Even at the though he felt his manhood twitch, just a bit in expectation.

Fire fevered through Belle's cheeks in a blushing inferno of embarrassment towards being caught. He had known she was watching, and intently at that! "Keep them on." She murmured, trying to make her voice sleepy in case he took it a step too far.

For a moment he seemed taken aback that she actually was brave enough to respond and not pretend as though she were still lost in the realm of dreams. Smiling, actually pleased that she would admit her watching, the magical fiend offered a curt bow of acknowledgement to her request before gliding over to the other edge of the bed.

Icy claws gripped Belle's throbbing heart making the thundering aorta stop dead in her chest as his shadow blotted out the beams of moon slanting in through the doors. His dark figure was like some looming specter hovering in the room right behind her; relishing in having her finally trapped. For all her brilliance and wit, she had to wonder would he dare try anything, if just to make her more uneasy than was already the case.

Slowly, almost warily himself, Belle felt her master pry up the covers and slip into bed. Although it was an impossibility, she swore she felt the bed heat right as his head hit the pillow or perhaps it was her own insides rekindling with the fire of the previous hours hence.

It finally occurred to her the magnanimity of the situation; the Dark One was in bed with her! Master of magic, terror of all the realms, powerful beyond comprehension, her captor, and he was a few feet away trying to get comfortable.

A small squeak of surprise burst from her throat as she felt his body move closer to her own. If her heart had frozen once, now it galloped frantically in her chest to the point she thought it might burst forth from her bosom and scramble away. Blood sloughed like molasses in her veins, her nerves thrummed to a tingling taunt where her body truly hurt with their rising tension.

His sinew arm flopped over her, and his body pressed against her back till she could feel his warmth and his magic vibrating on his skin and radiating to her. What's more, though which surpassed all of that, she felt his manhood press against the small of her back. It was flaccid, but it couldn't have been another other part of his anatomy.

"I told you, Dearie." Whispered the Dark One in a low chuckle hissed sinuously from his thin, gray lips as he made himself more comfortable in the large bed and by her side. "I like to spoon."

As his breathing began to slow and his body relaxed, Belle sighed and stared at the shafts of moon glow play upon the rugs and battling the creeping black shadows in the corners of the room. There was no doubt in her mind she would not be getting anymore sleep tonight with the Dark One's breath smoothing past her skin and his body, practically crackling with his foul magic's so close.

This was happening, he was there, pressed against her, falling into a light doze or perhaps true sleep and keeping her close in his grasp. But, Belle decided determinedly, as she closed her eyes and memorized the feel of his body pressed against her. If he wanted to play the 'awkward game' she most certainly could ply her wits at that as well.


	3. Payback

The very last rays of day flared from behind the crisp alabaster mountain precipices that surrounded the Stronghold of Rumpelstiltskin. Streaks of dusky blushing pink and vibrant fiery crimson intermingled in long, winding strands, bidding the realms one last sweet ado before the blankets of ice and darkness stole upon the world. Already the stars were beginning to creep upon the dull blue firmament, with the North Star twinkling lovingly and bright in its eternal niche in the firmament.

There were legends those in dire need could wish upon the brightest celestial diamond that flared fire in its prism in hopes a fairy would hear their plea, but Belle had no need of a fairy when she had her wits and cunning.

Inside the bed chamber of the Dark One, the only other resident of the crypt like citadel prepared for her nightly endeavors, and also her mission to finally force the magical monster to send her away from his quarters and perhaps to one of solitude.

A satisfactory smile creased upon the beauty's porcelain features as she plucked and pulled at the thin raiment draped over her for the finishing touches to her plot. If Rumpelstiltskin was determined to play the wretched game of awkwardness he had forced upon her, then so was she, Belle swore to herself inwardly as she smoothed down the loose cotton draped over her. Though she had no mirror to gaze at her reflection, they russet haired beauty knew the night shift fitted well upon her form after a few modifications in her limited skill with needle and thread.

The shift, which had formerly been to her calves, now dropped to her upper thighs leaving her long legs bare and naked, the sleeves had been trimmed to form over her arms tighter, giving it a much more shapely appearance, and she had done a little work on the front to make her chest a tad more pronounced in the night garment. Had she been back in her father's kingdom, such a thing would have been scandalously inappropriate especially for a noble born lady of such lineage and title. But, she reminded herself resolutely as she pulled at a bit of the cloth; Rumpelstiltskin had what was coming to him.

They'd shared a bed for nearly two weeks now, each night roughly the same. He'd slip into the warm, comfortable bed at whatever hour took his fancy, sometime even an hour before she had to awake and begin her day, pull her close in his possessive grip and drift off to sleep with his arms firmly, but not uncomfortably about her, and his face buried in her thick, dark amber mane.

One night, to her private embarrassment, she'd had a dream of his throbbing member hot and pulsing behind her before he gripped her hips firmly and slipped his aching manhood into her sopping folds; taking her roughly to sate both their burning lusts. At the last moment she had awoken barely in time to stifle a moan and his name desperately blurting from his lips. There hadn't been much sleeping all that night on her part, only considering if she could dare ease the heat in her loins with her own ministrations without him waking or else walking outside in the snow to cool the fevering, forbidden desire stirring inside and boiling her blood. It had been a miserable night, which had very nearly had her unabashedly begging for him to send her back to her cell.

Other than that one particular dream, there hadn't been any…incidents between him and her, and although Belle utterly loathed admitting it, she found herself comfortable in his arms as if she belonged there. Some nights she pondered why she hadn't ever slept in his grasp before those two weeks prior. It seemed the most instinctive, natural thing in all the realms. His breathing, even and slow and steady, lulled her into restful repose that she had never before been privy to. Tucked away safe in his clutches made it seem as though he was the guardian of her dreams keeping all terrors that stalked the dark corners of the mind and nightmares at bay. He was her protectorate in more ways than simply keeping her safe from tumbling off ladders.

Still, that did not belay the fact that insofar he had denied her a chamber of her own everyday she entreated him for a room apart from his or denied her slumber back in her cold, fetid cell. No, he would merely chuckle in his impish pitch and shake his dirty brown locks in mock forlornness. Those piercing black eyes would taunt her all the while flashing in something else, something that never failed to make her belly twirl and heat to pool in her lower half.

Besides for having his arms around her at night whilst he held her owning to his own gray-gold flesh, he had never touched her inappropriately. Her masters hands and arms where always expertly situated around her middle, never touching her swelled bosom or going past her petite waist. Rumpelstiltskin made it a point not to touch her in her more private, personal areas, and that was what would give her an advantage on turning the tables.

"And now for the finishing touch." The scheming beauty whispered conspiratorially, with just a hint of preening over her brilliant plot.

Her diligent fingers plucked the thin cords that bound the front of the night shift tight together making it loose in the front to allow more than a modest amount of her bosom to be revealed. Many women, who owned shifts such as the one she had re-tailored, used the cords to help on sweltering summer nights when the heat refused to relent even in the cool of darkness.

A smile blossomed upon her face, and her hearts beat picked up to a rapid tattoo as she heard the thuds of his leather boots plodding meanderingly down the cool, darkened halls. At supper he had informed her of business he'd have at the crack of dawn on the morrow, detailing an early turn it for an early rise for rambling about the realms and causing discord.

Stifling a mischievous giggle and burying the sly smile behind, casual, neutral features, the beauty quickly hopped upon the comfortable bed, but not under its thick quilts, and picked up the book on the oaken nightstand. Forcing her nerves to halt their quivering in excitement, the gorgeous Belle pried open the leather bound tome, and set to pretending to be deep in reading of its passages all the while blissfully unaware the thin cotton that snugly hugged her body and rode up her thigh.

Only a fiercely stubborn will kept her startling cobalt orbs riveted to the yellowing pages and small letters as the door creaked open and her master walked in to prepare to wander to bed for his nightly repose. Even though she couldn't see him past the bindings of the tome, she heard his boots thud nearly two steps and then pause as if the person wearing them had been struck dead where he stood. Oh yes, he hadn't seen such a bold move coming, not by a long shot.

Rumpelstiltskin sucked in his breath as he stepped inside the chamber, only lit with a few bronzed candelabras that guttered cheerily about the room in enough light for his slave to read by in the fading glow of day. He scolded himself harshly for the involuntary, sharp hiss of air, already knowing he had allowed her a score in their game of awkwardness and trickery. She could feign innocence all she desired, she knew what she was doing and how she was doing it. A part of Rumpelstiltskin's mind had to applaud her for her cunning, brazen daring, while another cursed her for the reactions she sparked within him.

The way the comfortable fabric hugged her upper thigh and above, almost made him think she had opted to wear one of his shirts, if he had any in the pure color. His dark ebony depths sat pinioned to the spot where the shift ran up part of her creamy flesh, giving a trifle more away than what it already did; filling his mind with tantalizing scenes love making and her screaming out his name.

She was gorgeous, laying there, quite at ease pretending to read the scribble in a book, her rich russet hair freely tumbling down her shoulders, and the way her chest heaved with every soft yet excited breath. Of course she was always breathtaking, but now…he felt his close fitting leather breeches become just a tad bit tighter as his manhood grew to life.

A familiar ache was slowly shooting down below his waist, and dizzyingly draining his head of blood to gallop heatedly through his veins to another more explicit destination. Nervously licking his thin gray lips, a small sound like a half wary chuckle tumbled from his mouth as he tried to act normally.

Unlacing his supple leather boots, a part of him suddenly realized, tonight was going to be a bit different. Being that she looked more beautiful than the sun rising at down over the mountain peaks or a lake with the pallid moon mirrored upon its tranquil surface, he wondered how he was to hold her that night, or what's more, how he planned to take his pants off without her noticing the…lift in his undergarments.

Prying off his gaudy, brown and dull burgundy vest, the fiend casually strode to his side of the bed, hoping it wouldn't be far too obvious he hadn't taken his pants off yet. It was a hopeless, gesture he knew, with every step and tremulous breath he was giving more away.

She was winning with such a simple weapon as a night shift. His lovely captive was finally making him feel awkward and out of place and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out how to manipulate it back to his advantage.

With a flick of the wrist he banished the dancing flames flickering in their sconces, hoping the darkness might add a bit of aid as he fumbled clumsily for his pants. It seemed like forever had passed in a sea of trembling fingers and awkwardness of fiddling with the buckle before he finally managed to free the form fitting breeches and practically jump out of them. His only saving grace was that he was turned away from the bed, so that she did not see his length springing out and pressing to be free from his undergarments.

No, he decided with no small portion of stung pride, he couldn't hold her that night, not with his erection so pronounced that she'd have to be totally blind not to see it, or feel it for that matter if he spooned with her.

Even as his dexterous claws accidentally brushed the tent in his breeches, the Dark One felt his member twitch in eagerness. He longed to handle his aching member, and relive the lust he felt brewing inside, but she'd no doubt hear his actions of self pleasure to find release for his throbbing length.

Misery snuck upon him dourly as he quietly slunk into the wide, lavish bed and forcefully crossed his arms tightly over his bare chest. His dirty talons dug viciously into the gray-gold flesh of his arms while he concentrated all his will not to wander a hand down and stroke himself.

From the other side of the bed Belle chuckled victoriously as she finally snuggled under the covers. "My, no spooning tonight?" She taunted lightly. A part of her knew it dangerous to gloat over her triumph, but after all he put her through, the least she deserved was to rub his face in it a tad, she supposed.

For everything that had transpired, she had finally managed to strike a blow in their bout. That at least called for a little bragging thanks to her clever plot to make him miserable.

A frown deepened upon his scaled features, as his manhood twitched again, simply at the sound of her lovely voice so close and drifting upon the night's cool air. He grumbled something incomprehensible and burrowed deeper sulkily into the mattress in a way that only made the beauty giggle all the more for her now flagrant victory that stood out and pronounced like the darkness about them.

"I thought you simply adored spooning, dear master Rumpel." Belle grinned mischievously and yawned. "Have I become too frigid, too stony, or too prickly to nestle in your arms?"

Rum growled out a soft warning like a surly wolf. "Careful, you are pushing your boundaries, Belle." He snapped in a distempered, slightly aroused murmur.

Actually, to be truthful, she was pushing his boundaries, with the thought of her only inches over in the small shift, and taunting him at that. The Dark One found his will slowly crumbling, his stoic determination evaporating into nothingness as his hand slowly, crept down even though his pride was fighting tenaciously to not let himself pump his manhood with her so near.

"Funny." The beauty smiled sleepily, unable to resist one last piercing taunt. "I never thought you such a sore loser."

He was on her before she could fully shut her eyes.

For Belle, the world turned into a blur from the faint shadows of the room, lengthening in the corners, to one huge black, wiry, blot overtop her body. Her master's body rested above her, but not with his weight pressing down upon her form to pin her under himself. She could have scrambled away if she so desired, but it had happened all so quickly, she wasn't sure where to move.

His knees straddled her waist keeping his body off of her own and one hand was firmly implanted by her head, and gripping the pillow in a clenched vice with his dirty, wiry fingers. Under the covers, there was still just enough light to make out his other hand stroking his thick erect member right above her.

He always did have a problem with control, Rum, knew as he loosely gripped his shaft and pumped it with vigor. Denying himself anything had never been a stoic strength since he had become the Dark One, and now was no different. Surely he would have to face consequences after her found sweet release of his aching length, but for right now, all he desired was to assuage the hot throbbing in his groin and fill her with a bit of aghast fear in the process in reply to her taunts.

For a moment, Belle was far too stunned to even blink. Her azure eyes were stapled to the sight of his manhood hovering above her as he grunted with exertion to jerk himself off. "I warned you." He gasped simply as the strokes intensified.

It wasn't going to take him long to spill his seed, his erection had almost sprung to life the moment he gazed upon her. Already he could feel his will straining and pleading to be unleashed with each move.

A cunning smile bloomed upon her face replacing her surprise with some inner satisfaction that stunned the Dark One. Her deep cobalt orbs glittered with fire and desire and lust as she simply watched him take his own personal pleasure. "That you did." She replied in a calm way that made the Dark One think he had never been in control since the entire fiasco has begun with that grand supper.

She wasn't screaming in alarm, or racing from the room in abject terror as he fulfilled his burning need blazing throughout his body. No, she was looking at him in calm assurance, her bright cerulean orbs dancing in arousal at the sight of him stroking completely unable to help himself.

Was he ever in control? Had she planned all of…No, he tried to deny that she might have manipulated all of it from the beginning, yet it was so hard to abolish the idea, when he was on top of her, pounding at his throbbing member and she simply watching for her own pleasure eagerly waiting for him to…

His breath came short and laborious, his strokes, more sharp and spasmodic with each pump. The tension coiled in his loins and stomach spiraling higher and higher in some delicious ecstasy on the verge of a blinding explosion. "Belle I am…" He stammered and tried to speak, but all he could try to focus on was rolling away from her to release himself somewhere else.

At that moment, he knew surly without a hint of doubt that all of this had been her cunning and plans as she gripped his shoulder forcing him to stay atop her. A cry burst forth from his lips as he seed erupted from his manhood. The pearly white fluid gushed rapidly from his member wetting his hand and staining the fabric of her shift with his still warm seed.

His knees wobbled violently as she released her grip and he rolled over, breathless at what he had just done. Somehow, some way she had manipulated every step he had taken to bring him to that stag; to coax the beast of desire and lust out of him for her own pleasures. He had never been winning at all, and surprisingly, now that he could properly see what her manipulations had wrought, that was okay with him.

Beside him, he could make out her figure slipping off the now stained night gown and tossing it carelessly to the floor till morning where that, along with the sheets, would have to be laundered. How his heart thudded like war drums as she slipped over to him and laid her head down upon his chest while he palm rested on his heaving heart.

"Are…are you angry with me for setting all this up?" She asked warily in a murmur. Her leg shifted to fall atop his as she snuggled closer.

Although she had seen the way he looked at her from day one that she came to toil in the Dark Castle, a bit of her was frightened he'd not be pleased at all she had manipulated him to get to such a stage. But damn it, she had waited for his move, waited patiently for him to make love to her, waited for him to come to her cell and pound himself into her, waited long, strenuous _months_ and he had decided to forgo all of that.

She plotted it all, simply with the infuriating knowledge he would never have taken that next step, never have hinted his burning interest aloud, or admit she was the reason he pleasured himself if she hadn't maneuvered it into place.

He barked a weak laugh, tired from his exertion. "How could I? Now looking back I can only blame myself for being led to this path. I should have seen you setting all of this up. I just don't know how you managed to get me to take you to my bed."

"Well, you desire me do you not?" Bell queried, if not even more warily as though the answer would be dire.

"Of course I do." The Dark One assured her, and then slightly turned his head toward her direction. He chuckled slightly at some reminiscence as he tenderly swiped a rebellious chestnut curl from her face. "The first few weeks you were here I had to magic my sheets clean every day in fear you'd be terrified when you washed them and saw all the stains."

She was beautiful, there was absolutely no denying that, and he had spent long, long night dwelling on that fact and other raunchy fantasies as he pleased himself, like he hadn't in many a long century.

A wide grin played upon her features as she cuddled into him, truly sleepy this time as she pulled the covers over them and placed her hand over his dully beating heart. "Good, the next time you may find pleasure without the aid of you hand." She hinted, rolling her hips to his side playfully. "I have waited for far too long for you not be inside me."

Rum merely chuckled. He couldn't be mad at her deception, how could he be when the end result added up to them both receiving pleasure? As he felt her breathing slow, and his conscious dip into the realm of slumber and dreams, a part of him had an inkling of a notion, he would never really be in control of what when in his…their bed.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: Only one more chapter to go! What? Yeah, I can't believe it either, but seriously, think about it, how far can you go with them in bed without them humping one another like rabbits? _


	4. Finally One

_A/N: Thanks for all the nice reviews and taking the time to read. This chapter is all smut. I mean it, seriously hombres. Smut, smut, smuttity smut. I'm not truly good at endings and this was the shortest story I have ever done, so I hope it's sufficient. ._._

**~8~8~**

After the entire plot had been brought to the light, things moved at a smoother, less anxious tempo between the beauty and the Dark One.

No longer did they tenuously dance upon eggshells at a slight blooming blush or a gentlemanly complement. A gesture of endearment was not the very limits of their scant courage any longer. Touches, once a boundary neither would transcend, were not strictly chaste and only in the direst of cases such as clumsy beauties tumbling off ladders.

It was evident now, prevalently so, that they desired one another, and that in turn opened the flood gates of scorching passion that had once been completely off limits and unacceptable and by far improper to the most outrageous degree. Without the towering barrier of lady like and gentlemanly chivalrous duty built betwixt them not a day went by they did not make love in some form or fashion.

So far they had mated in the laundry room, a slew of empty, desolate rooms heaped with lavish riches, and many a time in the main hall where wicker baskets filled with straw had been upturned and tea left to grow cold. Yet their favorite room remained the one where her plots had bloomed and unraveled to him seeking his pleasures without remorse or thought.

In their time ceaselessly exchanging body heat and fluids, he had found out his Belle was not the type of woman born of wealth and title to make love too gently. Behind her curious, bright, pleasant exterior was a burning lust that begged to be sated.

While she did enjoy the moments, where he was sweet and tortuously slow in taking his time whilst bequeathing praise over her body as he slid into her with a gentle lovers care, he found she much more enjoyed being plunged into with hard, owning thrusts.

There were many nights he found her needs highly erotic and giving him a challenge to hear his name scream in a shriek of ecstasy from her lips as he hit her tender spot again and again without a care. Stars would always dance in his vision when his seed spilled into her, hot and copious; making certain he filled her with everything he had. Each moment felt like the first and the first with her had been more than phenomenal.

"Have we done it in this room yet, I can't recall." Rum inquired through grit teeth as he mischievously teased her entrance with his throbbing manhood by temptingly sliding it against her soaked opening just hinting upon the glorious idea of what was to come.

The room was like many in the Dark Castle, lavish and gilt to make any royal or noble jealous of its grandeur and riches that gathered dust within the exquisite silken confines. Truth be told they had done it in so many rooms; it was actually difficult to ascertain if they had actually mated in that particular chamber.

Not that it really mattered, he reminded himself as he situated himself properly behind his Belle. The only reason he even brought it up at all was their challenge to make love in every room in the massive citadel.

Once, when they had just begun their tenuous days of lovemaking, it had been only meant in jest. He had made a quip of it while they lay together after they both had be sated. Now, however, it seemed to be transforming into a fast reality and a challenge they took on in earnest to be sunk into a world of pleasure and desire in every chamber of the Dark Castle.

The russet haired beauty gazed around the floor, which was surprisingly simple thanks to her being on her hands and knees. A small, soft groan escaped her lips at his engorged member feigning entrance to her folds then pulling out in his agonizing taunting.

Her hips tried desperately to shove him in deeper, but he playfully pulled away causing the lovely slave more than a little sexual frustration at his temptation then keep away.

Licking her pink lips tremulously to bite back a plea to have him insider her, she shook her head faintly in reply. Chestnut curls tumbled in every direction, cascading down her shoulder from their ribbon. "Well there aren't any stains on the carpets or bare patches on the rugs so I don't think so. Now…please…"

A small smirk etched upon his lips as he finally concluded she had more than enough teasing and slowly guided himself in behind her.

The Dark One stifled a groan at her wet walls clenching and unclenching and relaxing to make way for his pulsing manhood. His wiry talons curled over her hips as he immediately set a slow, steady pace that was surprisingly increasing tempo at a dramatic rate.

He fought hard with the will she had trained in him to retain an even rate that would soon pick up to something utterly remorseless, just the way she enjoyed him inside her.

Making love to Belle did come at a price as all things did. She had instilled in him something to tame his wild and primal desires into an inferno of lust he could focus into the intensity she craved and all the burning need that fevered him to driving himself faster and longer to reach a climax.

His hips where already pumping at a blurring speed as he rutted with her. Each thrust was a thunderous crash of flesh and sweat and love barreling about them. Belle was never idle in their love makings, for even in the less that favorable position, she thrust back to meet his burning flesh just as fiercely as he did. Pleasure beyond compare to build and well within them as every hard jolt connected them as one entity.

With each crash of their bodies meeting, the Dark One forced himself to go fast, harder, his dirty claws digging viciously into the creamy flesh of her waist as he sought release. He bit down hard on his bottom lip, as he all but slipped fully out of her, only to ram back inside of her with all the power he dared use.

Though he couldn't properly see her lovely features, his dragon-like hearing easily picked up on how her breath heaved sporadically from her chest when she rolled her hips back. Every coo and moan, that rose high above the sound of flesh colliding, and his feral grunts of exertion with every ruthless thrust, was the finest of music to his ears.

It drove him harder and further with the knowledge he was doing it to her, he was making those sounds burst forth from her lips. It was his manhood inside her that prompted her to beg for more beneath her breathless whispers ushered from her quivering lips.

He bequeathed her with pleasure and there was something utterly primal and raw about that fact that made him want to own her more than he already did.

"Rumpelstiltskin…" His name fell dazedly from her lush pink mouth as though she were only have there and half drowning in a world of minute pain and vast pleasure. Her fingers clawed at the plush rug as she focused on just staying on her hands and shaky knees for a little longer before she lost all feeling in her lower body.

Sweat pricked and brooked down his gray-gold brow as her growled through grit teeth, focusing on the wondrous feeling of her wetness enveloping him. He could feel the coil of pleasure begin to wind its spell making a dark growl surge from his throat. "Belle, I am very close."

"Hold it back if you can; wait just a little longer." She stammered raggedly in a way Rumpelstiltskin knew her own climax was brewing inside.

The Dark One offered a faint nod, though she couldn't see such as he clenched his jaw stoically to deny himself release while she was still climbing the euphoric ladder to reach her ultimate peak.

His manhood jerked erratically and throbbed remorselessly, begging for sweet release deep into her sex; to breed her like every instinct in his body screamed. Yet he staved it off, wanting to hear her cries of abject pleasure when her orgasm erupted all about his hot length and in turn setting him off like fire against a heap of dry hay.

Only a determined will forged from the patience and learning of centuries kept him from unleashing the desire so desperately pent up within. He felt himself unraveling at the very seams of his being, and yet Belle asked, no ordered, him to keep it back for as long as possible.

His lovely Belle wanted him to reach the very edge of oblivion before he found release. In some ways, he knew, she was training him in the arts of lovemaking's that had been denied him for eons.

Pressure surmounted within him like a volcano just beginning to erupt. A feral growl wrenched from betwixt his clenched teeth, grit determinedly together to keep his control over his painfully aching length that begged to be assuaged. The muscles of his neck stood out like steel cords as he focused everything he possibly possessed into self-control not to spurt his load before she wished him to.

His thoughts, blurred indescribably with want and release echoing in his blood deprived skull. The sweat blinded his voided ebony depths as it streamed and coursed down his scaled features. He could feel his grip clutching her waist slipping with sticky sweat and yet he merely clenched tighter.

Did she know what she asked of him; to pause and deny his pleasure for her? But then, she was the only woman that would ever be able to order that of him. Belle was the only woman who ever managed to manipulate him and that alone demanded he do as she willed.

Suddenly, all thoughts, even the part of his ancient mind that told his lungs to breath, halted in one mind shattering moment as a cry of utter ecstasy erupted piercingly from her lips in testament to her orgasm.

The sound echoed about the room akin to the sweetest of music reverberating in his ears. Her head tilted back as she shrieked to the sky, to all and everything that would hear.

He did that to her, he contemplated proudly, reveling in the sound as a warrior did their battle cries. It was he who made her scream with pleasure and clutch the dark carpet beneath them for dear life.

He felt her climax hit its apex and her walls shuddering and undulating about him as wetness filled his entire world. Darkness washed over the magical fiend in a mesh of abject pleasure. Her massive climax tipped him far over the abyssal edge he had previously been teetering so precariously upon, sending him in a realm of absolute release.

The magical fiend couldn't have kept it in any longer even if he had had magic to command just for that one purpose. With one final, tremendous thrust deep inside her, he shot his hot seed deep into her squirming sex. His manhood jerked and twitched erratically as they rode out their simultaneous orgasms.

Belle's body grinded against him viciously as his name tumbled like curses and praise from her lush pink mouth. Dark chestnut hair fell disheveled about her sweat laced face giving her a wild appearance with their climaxes winding down leaving only two fatigued sweaty people on the floor of the gilded chamber.

How he loved coaxing such a reaction from her. To hear the shrieks of delirious desire and lust bursting from her soft pink mouth, to know he was the reason why she fell into such a state. He loved knowing with satisfaction that it was his essence spilled inside her. Every day it was part of him that pooled inside of her, the product of their love making.

Twin flames that were his eyes stared profoundly at the beauty, wondering how he had managed to snag up such a wondrous woman who could be with him in all scenarios of lust and duty.

Belle fell flat upon her belly on the exquisite copper and teal rug with a long laborious breath streaming from her mouth. The lower half of her body felt very nearly numb from their escapades and already she could feel the bruises forming on her waist where his dexterous talons had gripped her to allow himself the leverage to shove himself inside with such force.

Still, despite the paralyzed tingling crashing over her, she felt him pull out of her tight passage and manage not to topple over on her in his ragged state. She had driven her master hard that time with asking him to push away ecstasy for longer than any normal man could have been able.

Grunting in exhaustion the Dark One shifted himself just enough to flop down beside her. His chest heaved like bellows had replaced his lungs as he stared up at the gilded ceiling. The sweat that brooked upon his brow, glittering in the shafts of sunlight that slanted through the windows, made his gray-gold flesh shimmer like flecks of gold was caught in his skin.

He was not horrid or terrifying looking as the legends spoke. He was odd, but not unpleasant, and besides, the outside of a person had always meant little to Belle. The inside of Rumpelstiltskin was a handsome and kind man, which darkness kept chained backed under a morass of vileness.

It also didn't hurt that he was absolutely amazing in bed.

"Belle." He spoke her name nervously, his eternally black eyes dancing in wariness.

After all they had done, the ways they had done it, the heart felt admissions that had sailed from their mouths in the throes of heated lovemaking, the russet haired beauty couldn't decide whether she found his anxiousness, which still remained, irksome or endearing.

The latter, she decided with a warm smile as she curled up beside him easily. Placing her head on his slowly rising chest and under his chin as cuddled comfortably beside him, hoping they could catch a bit of deep slumber.

Sleep was not something that did not come upon them often in the night. Not when there was so much else to do and so many ways to do them.

"Yes, Rum?" The beauty murmured wearily as she wove her clever fingers through his straggly dirty brown locks.

The fiend looked down upon her, his smile creased mischievously upon his lips. "I was thinking perhaps it was time to give you a room of your own. I think you've suffered quite enough having to bunk with me."

At the revelation Belle couldn't hold back the disappointment streaked dourly across her features. Her hand clutched his dark red leather vest, as she forced herself not to spew out a want for an explanation.

While they may have been lovers, he was yet still her master, meaning he ultimately dictated where she laid her head. And here she thought, it was meaning so much more than merely sating one another's pleasures and lusts.

"Although I might be persuaded to let you stay a few nights if you were to make mutton tonight." He quipped tenderly. A part of him regretted the remark of sending her away, and while it was meant in jest, that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

No, he wouldn't dare dream of dismissing her from their bed. Far too much had been shared beneath the furs and the blankets and the silken sheets of jasper hue. He could banish her from his bed no more than he could rip his own heart out.

Her frown dissipated like mist on a warm summer's morning. A brow arched teasingly as she feigned suspicion. "Why master Rum, are you trying to trick me?"

"Trick you?" He echoed the words in joking seriousness and waggled a dexterous finger at her in scolding. "You do all the trickery around here, Dearie. It's invariably difficult to top trying to deceive the person who manipulated their master into rather accordant relationship. "

She nestled closer to him, her head underneath his chin as she kissed him and traced little spiraled patterns upon his vest innocently. "And now that you know this what shall become of me for attempting to manipulate the great and powerful Rumpelstiltskin, my captor turned lover?"

"I'll have to punish you, of course." He replied, inching his lips closer to her own. "One simply cannot have slaves fooling their owners to get their masters into bed with them."

Her lips were a hairsbreadth away from his own. Moist breath brushed, hot and tempting, against his slightly trembling lips that eagerly waited to feel her mouth smashed against his. "So how long will be the punishment for this servant's trickery, hmm?" She queried in a sultry whisper laced with mischief.

"Forever." He replied hoarsely just as her lips met his own.


End file.
